|The Callous Man and His Cap
Author: rakku PM
A bored young man leant against the wall, with the rakish angle of his cap matching the dangerously amused quirk of his lips. — It was a sad waste of time. He could have been chatting up a cute girl or three during all that time he spent in the streets...Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Crime - Words: 773 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Published: 06-01-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2919703
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Prompt: a cap.
My favourite scene-writing, again. Very vague, of course. May be a little bit inspired by Firo Prochainezo from the anime Baccano!, which is really, really awesome.
And as for the character, he doesn't need a name to be awesome. :3
Prompt: a cap.
He tossed the cap up and down a few times, trying to get the feel of the weight of it. That was definitely not what he was supposed to do with it, of course, but he never was the type to care for such things. (He was never the type to care much for anything, in fact.) And to him, it was just not interesting enough to treat it as nothing more than a plain grey cap anyway.
The young man soon felt quite bored, and flicked the cap into the air one last time for it to land on his head, at a strange but comfortable angle, casting a shadow over his eyes. Sighing patiently, he continued to wait, leaning casually against the red brick wall outside the hat shop.
A sudden gust of wind blew it right off his head, sending his hair flying every which way. Startled and a little miffed, he reached out for it, but it was futile as the cap was already soaring merrily through the air.
'Ah, such a pity,' he thought, resigned. 'I'd just bought it, too.'
A bright figure zoomed past him in a swirl of colourful ribbons, lace and long, long hair, chasing after the flyaway cap. To his mild surprise, the unknown girl managed to snag it out of the wind's light fingers. He heard a happy, girlish squeal of delight before she almost seemed to fly back, rushing over to him like a mad whirlwind.
"Here!" A bright smile, a childish bounce of delight, and the cap was thrust into his face. He blinked in bemusement, but she was already gone.
'On her way to the clothes shop or the candy shop, probably,' his mind supplied. He spun the errant cap a few times, and waited.
'There they are,' he paused for a moment, seeing the dark-clad trio of men approaching along the street. 'As blatantly obvious as ever, I see.'
Sleek black suits, slicked-back hair and sunglasses. (And, of course, the faintest outline of danger, hidden behind expensive fabric.)
How much more stereotypical could they get? He sighed, shaking his head in exasperation.
It was such a sad waste of time, waiting around to "meet" the executives of other Families and, when necessary, deal with them accordingly. He could have been chatting up a cute girl or three during all that time he spent in the streets... Of course, he had pledged his allegiance to the Boss so it was part of his duties, but he cared little for such things.
'Well, it's not like I've anything better to do right now.' He smiled and pushed off the wall with a foot, sauntering towards the increasingly tense men.
As he saw one of them begin to reach inside his jacket, the smile widened fractionally, twisting into an asymmetrical smirk.
'Trying to kill someone without even a greeting of some sort is really rude, y'know.'
He was the best and laziest hitman, but the others in the Family knew not to push him – he might just "off" them all and go back to working freelance, given enough motivation. He was on rather friendly terms with the consigliere, however, and his pay was pretty decent, so perhaps it was time for him to be pulling his weight. Even if it was terribly boring.
"Yo," he greeted with a careless, insolent tilt of the head, before tossing his cap straight into the face of the man in the middle.
Distracted, the mafia member never even had a chance to pull out his gun before a knife embedded itself in his chest.
The other two reeled in shock and fear, both reaching for their own weapons –
And they, too, fell with a splurch each as two more of his daggers found their marks.
He snagged his cap just before it landed on the ground – it would be a pity to stain it red already – and, now smiling in satisfaction, tossed it upwards once more.
The cap spun, slowed, and descended, flopping lightly onto his head again.
'Useful, I suppose.' He shrugged, and left.
What is the purpose of the girl and the cap? – Well, what do you think?
If you really want an answer from me... Why, contrast, of course. Perhaps not the only purpose, though. (: